Apollo, bearer of the silver bow, Kept no vain watch, and, angry when he saw Minerva at the side of Diomed, Down to the mighty host of Troy he came, And roused from sleep a Thracian counsellor⁠— Hippocoön, a kinsman of the house Of Rhesus. Leaping from his couch, he saw The vacant spot where the swift steeds had stood, And, weltering in their blood, the dying chiefs, He saw, and wept aloud, and called by name His dear companion. Then a clamor rose, And boundless tumult, as the Trojans came All rushing to the spot, and marvelling At what the daring warriors, who were now Returning to the hollow ships, had done.

And when these warriors now had reached the spot Where Hector’s spy was slain, Ulysses, dear To Jupiter, reined in the fiery steeds, And Diomed leaped down and took the spoil Blood-stained, and gave it to Ulysses’ hands, And mounted. Then again they urged the steeds, Which, not unwilling, flew along the way. First Nestor heard the approaching sound, and said:⁠—